God is Weary – Tragic and Witty Short Tales

In a universe where humans ignore what defines humanity and mothers fail to love their offspring, there is a weary God watching over. Children catapulted in the adulthood way too early, while parents blame them for their broken lives. 
Realistic poignant stories exclusively for people who value emotions and family ties. 

Published in 2017 on July 21. 

Excerpt from the funny bit
God is Weary 

My name is God. People say I am the Creator of everything. But who created me?
There are many speculations about my age, but nobody knows exactly when I was born and from who.
I guess I am ancient, as human teenagers would say. To be honest, I feel ancient. I have been working for my entire existence, since second one, twenty-four hours a day for seven days a week. I am exhausted and can't go on like this. I would like to find my parents and slap them across their faces for giving birth to me. How can any parent be fine with their child being exploited in this manner? I feel like a slave orphan.
God sighs and says to Peter, “I am on the edge of a breakdown. I need a holiday. Now.”
Peter looks at this man with silver wavy hair and beard and replies, “No can do, man.”
“I am not a man, Peter. You know this, and I am asking for a break. I am exhausted, and can't think straight. People are unhappy, always complaining, asking without giving, and I can’t stand this anymore. It’s an endless nightmare.”
“Sorry, God, but that's what you have signed for.”
“I haven't signed for this at all! Nobody asked me if I wanted this job, I was born into it. It is not fair, and I demand a break now!”
“Well, you can't have it. We've discussed this many times before, there is no one else who can do this.”
“I need to sleep; do you get this or not? I am exhausted, depleted like a battery fully charged too many times, melted like butter under the sun. I am done! Look for a substitute. There is an infinity of souls in here. Either I have a break, or I quit right now.”
“You’re God, you can’t quit!”
“Watch me!” says God clearly convinced. Then takes a piece of paper with golden little angels imprinted on it and starts writing, 'I, God, son of ... – who knows? – resign from all my duties starting with... ' He doesn't get to finish as someone knocks at the gates of heavens.
“Oh, hold that thought. We have someone to judge right now. We'll finish this later,” says Peter.          “Come. Hopefully, we'll have some fun this time.”
God looks at the clouds completely defeated, “All right, but after this we'll start looking for a substitute. Deal?”
“Absolutely,” replies Peter thinking, 'He won't quit, he tried this several times before. Poor God though, he is totally right. Maybe I should start looking for someone to replace him for a while. He could go on a cruise or something; have some peaceful days. Yeah, I think I'll give him this. He's a good lad and totally deserves this.'
God, accompanied by Peter, arrives at the heaven's entrances.
“Hello, hello? Anybody here? God dammit, open this door already! I don't even know where I am and why? Give me some answers, you pricks!”
“Oh, oh, oh. Watch your language, human!” says Peter opening the gate.
In front of it was a chubby guy with red hair and loads of freckles. His face was also red from anger and impatience. He looked like a bull, ready to attack.
“What took you so long? I have been staying here forever! Who are you anyway? But most importantly, what's this and why am I here? What's going on?! Is this some sort of a Candid Camera? I am going to kill that bitch is she's messing with me again!”
“You've got a terrible attitude, Mister, and I don't like that. For your general knowledge, you are dead and your judgement day has come. I am God Almighty, and he is Saint Peter,” says God pointing towards Peter. “First of all, what's your name?”
“Ha, ha, ha,” starts laughing the red-haired man. “This is brilliant. That bitch of my wife has a great imagination. I'll give her that. But I will still make her pay. Where is she?”
God looks at Peter confused, “What's he talking about? Has this man married a whore?”
“Oh, oh, oh, God, please, don't use that word like that. It's not nice, and you are setting a bad example. This individual will not take us seriously.”
“What word? Man?” asks God even more confused.
Whore. It's a very vulgar word. We are punishing people who use it,” replies Peter rolling his eyes. “You made the rules, remember?”
“Really? I am not sure was me making a rule whatsoever. It's been so long ago. If that's so, the rules must be changed. Whore is not a bad word. Everyone uses it, even children and decrepit humans. We cannot punish them for this!”
Peter looks at him with the eyeballs almost sticking out of his head.
God stops and changes his mind, “Nah, you're right, it doesn't sound nice. Hold the punishment. Is there another word for it maybe?”
“There are several actually, prostitute, sex worker, harlot, trollop...” replies Peter.

“Slut. I like slut,” intervenes the red-haired.  
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